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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29180883">the delicate beginning rush</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/groovy_phonebox/pseuds/groovy_phonebox'>groovy_phonebox</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>grad school 'verse [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>X-Men - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Charles Xavier Needs a Hug, Charles is a dorkface, Charles is an anxious boi, Erik is a Sweetheart, Erik is also a dorkface, Fluff, M/M, doctoral student erik, med student charles, meet cute?, well...med school</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 00:27:40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,774</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29180883</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/groovy_phonebox/pseuds/groovy_phonebox</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Charles is adorably awkward, Erik is just adorable, and it's the beginning of a beautiful relationship.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>grad school 'verse [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2145576</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>67</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>the delicate beginning rush</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Title from Taylor Swift's song "Come Back, Be Here"</p><p>All grammar/syntax mistakes are my own, so feel free to point them out so that I can fix them.</p><p>Constructive criticism, general flailing, or just stopping by to say hello spark much joy :)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The first time Charles saw Erik, he ran into a door and spilled his lab notes all over the floor. <i>Good going, Xavier, so clumsy, just like you to lose your focus because you’ve seen a pretty ass… </i> Cheeks steaming in embarrassment and cursing under his breath, he scrambled to gather his papers, checking for any other stragglers. </p><p>“This one is yours, too, right?” Startled, Charles looked up into steel gray eyes, crinkled in amusement. </p><p>“Yes! Umm, thank you, for uhh, yeah, thanks for that,” he stammered, starstruck by the stranger. </p><p>“No problem. Happy to be of service.” The stranger smiled as he reached out to help Charles up, steadying his elbow. </p><p>Absolutely sure that his face now resembled a tomato, Charles tried to recover. “Thank you very much for your assistance, it’s very much appreciated.” He made the mistake of once again looking into the stranger’s eyes and lost his train of thought. “I have to go, umm, do a… thing, umm, class, pharmacology and all that, so, thanks!” <i>So eloquent, nice job… Great, he thinks you’re even more of an idiot!</i> He scampered towards the auditorium, not noticing the stranger’s dumbfounded expression or the chuckle that escaped him. </p><p>~~</p><p>The second time Charles saw Erik, a week later, he was muttering abuse at the printer in the library as he gave it a few gentle slaps to eject his lab report. “Come on, you shitty piece of machinery, please don’t be this much of an asshole, it’s already been such a day… fucking university and their fucking lack of funding for halfway nonshitty printers...” He trailed off as he noticed the gray eyed stranger smirking at him. </p><p>Their eyes met, and his smirk grew into a toothsome grin. “Oh, please, don’t stop on my account.”</p><p>Trying to recover his dignity, Charles gave a delicate sniff. “I don’t know what you mean. I was <i>negotiating</i> with this chap here-- perfectly respectable business, thank you very much.”</p><p>“Are you always like this?”</p><p>“Like what?” Charles asked warily. <i>A disaster? A weirdo? A bit unhinged?</i></p><p>“Adorable.” He smiled shyly. </p><p>“Adora-- what?” Charles floundered around for words, flummoxed. “You can’t say things like that!”</p><p>The stranger frowned, and Charles wanted to kick himself. “Why not?”</p><p>“You’re so,” he gestured vaguely at the stranger’s well built body, “and I’m, you know,” he waved his hands in a universal gesture for <i>don’t get me started</i>, “and I don’t even know your name!”</p><p>A smirk reasserted itself on the stranger’s face. “Well, that’s easily fixed. I’m Erik.” He held out a hand for Charles to shake. </p><p>“Charles,” he replied, trying to ignore the thrill shooting up his spine from touching Erik’s skin. </p><p>“There we are. Not strangers anymore.” </p><p>“I suppose not,” Charles chuckled, smiling up at him. </p><p>Neither of them spoke for a few beats. Belatedly, Charles realized that he was still holding Erik’s hand. He let go, clearing his throat, pushing down the (not small) part of him that protested at the loss of contact. “I have to get back to my study group, but it was nice to finally put a name to the face. I, umm, I’ll see you around?” </p><p>He must not have done a good job at hiding his eagerness at the prospect because Erik looked at him solemnly and said, “Come hell or high water, we shall meet again.”</p><p>Charles let out a guffaw. “You’re such a dork!” He gathered his (finally liberated) lab report and slung his backpack over his shoulder. “Until then, good sir,” he said, matching Erik’s tone, throwing a wink over his shoulder. </p><p>~~</p><p>The third time Charles saw Erik, nearly a month later, he sat slumped at a study table, neuro study material spread out across the area, gulping down his tenth cup of tea in as many hours, and trying not to have a nervous breakdown. </p><p>“Are you alright?” A deep voice startled him out of his stupor, nearly knocking over his mug. Charles blinked blearily up at concerned grey eyes. </p><p>“Erik?” He squinted up at him. <i>I must be overdoing it if I’m hallucinating Mr. Fine Ass Pretty Eyes…</i> </p><p>“Yes, Charles, it’s me. Are you alright? How long have you been here?” Erik approached him like one would approach a deer --  slowly, non-threateningly, but with the clear expectation that Charles would comply with his bidding. </p><p>“Umm… What time is it?”</p><p>“Past two in the morning.”</p><p>“Oh fuck! Wait, what are you doing here at two in the fucking morning?”</p><p>“I work here. It’s time to close up, and I drew the short straw.”</p><p>“You work here?”</p><p>“Yeah, chemist by day, librarian by night.” Erik gave a low chuckle. “So that’s my excuse. What’s yours?”</p><p>“My neuro exam is on Friday, and the material is being a pain in the ass, and I have a research paper due at the end of the week, and my application to the MPA program is due soon, and I think the fucking pipes in my apartment need to be fixed, and I haven’t fucking slept in…” Charles tried to do the math. “What day is it?” </p><p>“Tuesday.”</p><p>“25 hours!” Charles came very close to whimpering. Or laughing. Or crying. Or all of the above. “Nothing makes sense anymore.” He looked up to see Erik frown. Too late, he realized that maybe he shouldn’t have just unloaded all of his woes on the very attractive not-stranger named Erik that he would very much like to bone. His eyes widened. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to complain so much about something so mundane… Erm, how are you?” He winced at his awkwardness. <i>This is why you’re single,</i> he berated himself. </p><p>“Okay.” Erik rounded the table to stand by Charles’ chair, a jaw set in determination. <i>Or annoyance,</i> the more self-hating part of himself whispered. </p><p>“Okay?” </p><p>“Here’s what we’re going to do: I’m going to help you gather your stuff, you’re going to tell me where you live, I’m going to get you home, and then you’re going to go to sleep.” Erik’s eyes softened as he laid a tentative hand on Charles’ shoulder. “Everything’s going to be okay.”</p><p>Charles blamed the sleep deprivation for the tears that welled up at the last statement. “Thank you,” he whispered, leaning into the touch. He started to gather his notes and powered down his laptop. </p><p>“Don’t forget this one.” Erik handed Charles an errant notebook. “Where do you live?”</p><p>Charles glanced at him. “I usually require at least dinner before taking a guy home. Awfully bold of you.”</p><p>Erik let out a startled laugh. “Ha. Dinner can be arranged. Where do you live?”</p><p>“Theater House, apartment 1105.”</p><p>“I live in 611. How have we never run into each other before?”</p><p>Charles shrugged. “It’s a big building? Who knows? But I’m glad that we’ve run into each other now.” He smiled tentatively. </p><p>His smile was mirrored on Erik’s face. “Me too,” he said tenderly. </p><p>They smiled goofily at each other. Charles let out a yawn. </p><p>“Time to get you home,” murmured Erik. </p><p>“Yes, that’s a good idea,” said Charles, standing from his chair and stumbling a few steps before righting himself. </p><p>They walked the couple blocks in companionable silence, Charles fighting to keep his eyes open. When they reached Charles’ door, Charles fumbled a bit for his keys before finding them and unlocking his door. “Thanks for getting me home safely,” he whispered, grasping Erik’s wrist, running the pads of his fingers along the ridges of his carpal bones. </p><p>Erik turned his hand so that they were twined together. He gave Charles’ hand a squeeze. “Any time.”</p><p>Charles beamed at him and hurriedly said good night before he could say something truly appalling, like “You have pretty eyes” or, even worse, “I love you”. </p><p>“Good night, Charles. Sleep well.” He stepped away and walked towards the elevator. Charles’ eyes followed his slim figure (and hella fine ass) down the hallway, ducking his head before Erik could turn around and see him spying. </p><p>~~</p><p>The fourth time Charles sees Erik, it’s finally intentional. Knocking on apartment 611, he took a steadying breath. <i>What if he’s not home? What if I’ve been reading things wrong, and he’s not actually into me? Oh god, this was a terrible idea…</i> Before he could walk away, Erik’s door opened, revealing the man dressed in gray sweats, looking far too delicious for any mere mortal. Charles’ mouth went dry. <i>Because salivation is inhibited by the sympathetic nervous system, which is activated by arousal,</i> his brain supplied helpfully. </p><p>“Hello, Charles.” If Erik was surprised to see him, he recovered quickly. “What’s up?”</p><p>“Dinner!” Charles blurted. Blushing, he tried again. “I was wondering if you wanted to have dinner. With me. Like on a date. Or not a date, if that’s not your thing, maybe just as a thank you for getting me home and being a lovely person? But I would like it to be, umm, a date. If that’s what you want.” He paused in his rambling, looking uncertainly at Erik. </p><p>Erik’s face erupted in a shark-like grin. “Absolutely. It’s a date. Do you want to go out now?”</p><p>“Oh! Umm…” Charles looked down at his clothes. Dark wash jeans, oxfords, light blue cardigan, under a tan peacoat. Acceptable date material. “Now is good, if that works for you.”</p><p>“Yeah, just let me change. Come in; it won’t take long.”</p><p>“Sure, thanks.” Charles stepped through the threshold, barely concealing his curiosity about what his apartment would reveal about Erik. <i>Don’t be a stalker,</i> he chastised himself, though he did give in and took a turn about the room, noting the record player and The Who vinyls, the guitar (<i>maybe I could get him to play for me one day!</i>), a framed selfie of a younger Erik and what looked to be his mother, both beaming at the camera. His bookshelf was mostly utilitarian, filled with metallo-organic chemistry books, copies of <i>Science, JACS,</i> and <i>Nature Materials</i>, although Charles did spot <i>The Once and Future King</i>, some Kafka, <i>Pride and Prejudice</i>, and even more surprisingly, a Winnie the Pooh collection. </p><p>Charles finished his cataloguing and slouched into the leather couch. <i>He’s bloody perfect!</i> He sighed dreamily. </p><p>“So what are you feeling?” Erik’s voice interrupted his thoughts. </p><p>Charles blatantly ran his eyes up and down Erik’s figure, taking in the jeans, black turtleneck, and brown leather jacket. <i>Enamored. Delighted. Utterly enchanted. So stupidly attracted to you. He’s talking about food, idiot!</i> “I’m kind of craving some pierogies. We could go to that Polish place a couple of blocks over?” </p><p>Charles thought that he had managed to keep his voice light, but Erik smirked at him knowingly. </p><p>“Perfection.”</p>
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